


Clouded sun

by slof



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Drinking, Fake Dating, Komosuna cause yeah, Longing, M/M, Unrequited Love, idk TAGS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:46:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27321424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slof/pseuds/slof
Summary: Atsumu realized he hated the cold.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 5
Kudos: 53
Collections: Haikyuu Angst Week 2020





	Clouded sun

**Author's Note:**

> Longing, fake dating, unrequited love 
> 
> “When did it all change?"

A swirled feeling awoke in the bottom of his gut when he had been asked the question by his teammate. 

“I need a favor.” A pause with hesitation. “I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend.”

It was a shock to say the least. The twin almost dropped the volleyball that was palmed in his hands. If he didn’t carefully take care of his nails, the fingers he dug into the soft ball might have even deflated it. 

He had always wondered how the other could be so calm. The way that his voice deadpanned when he asked questions, no emotions whatsoever as he spoke in that smooth voice of his. He was unreadable since day one.

It wasn’t just how he spoke — it had never been that to the setter. Moreso, it was the questions he asked that had always made him feel a little bit different toward him; it always had a different effect about how he felt about him that differed from his other teammates. Talking with him felt like a black cloud of smoke, suffocated in an atmosphere of an ominous feeling.

“Come again?” Atsumu asked.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, Miya.”

“I’m not jokin’ ‘round,” he said. “I really don’t think I heard ya right.”

“My cousin invited me to his wedding,” Kiyoomi began, “and he told me to bring someone or he’d bring someone  _ for  _ me.”

Atsumu understood, well enough, at least. The only thing he didn’t understand was why he was picking Atsumu for this. The twin guessed he didn’t really have anyone else. Koutarou and Shouyou were loud choices, Shuugo was — well, he was Shuugo, Adriah and Shion had been dating for a while and  _ out _ even while being on a National team. The only other people that Kiyoomi was close to were relatives. 

The twin shrugged. “‘Kay.”

“‘Kay?”

Atsumu nodded. “‘Kay. I’ll go with ya.”

“Okay,” Kiyoomi responded with. “I’ll text you information after practice.”

Just like that, the wing spiker turned on his heel and headed toward the middle of the gym floor. 

Atsumu looked down at the ball in his hand. Sweaty palms, a twitch of his eyebrow, a wiggle of his toes. He didn’t even know when it was but he still didn’t think he was ready. 

* * *

_ “Yer overthinkin’ it, I think.” _

“Thanks, ‘Samu. That really helps.” 

  
  


Atsumu had called his twin. He confided in him a lot. They trusted each other with everything, anything, and Osamu had been more than aware of the small liking Atsumu had over Sakusa Kiyoomi since the day they had met. Not even since the first day on the Black Jackals together. That hadn’t been when they first met like everyone had assumed it was.

It was all those years back into high school when they both went to the same All-Japan Youth Training Camp in their second year. Osamu had gotten multiple text messages.

_ “Some crazy wing spiker from Itachiyama Academy that’s one of the best in Japan, and he’s here, ‘Samu! I’m settin to him. Can ya believe that ???? He’s mysterious too. I wanna know more about him. ‘Samu! TEXT BACK SAY SOMETHIN.” _

  
  


Osamu sighed on the other end.  _ “I think he’s probably just usin’ ya ‘cause he knows he can trust ya.”  _

“How ya figure?” Atsumu asked.

_ “That he trusts ya?”  _ Osamu questioned back. Even though Atsumu knew his twin couldn’t hear him, he nodded his head. Osamu seemed to be able to understand with the silence though, and he continued.  _ “He’s gotta. Yer his setter.” _

“Yer right ‘bout that, I guess,” Atsumu muttered. He leaned on the counter in his kitchen. His finger pressed down on the top of the salt shaker. He began to roll it around on the counter. 

_ “I’m always right.” _

“Shuddup.”

_ “Just go to the weddin’,”  _ Osamu said instead of biting back.  _ “Go, and maybe make a move or somethin’. Ya can’t keep this one-sided love forever.” _

“Yah, I can.”

_ “But you’d be stupid to,”  _ Osamu hissed.  _ “Yer never gonna be happy if yer hung up on him.” _

“I know,” Atsumu muttered in agreement. 

_ “Then figure out and move on.”  _ He sighed.  _ “I know it’s harsh, ‘Tsumu, but—“ _

“Yer just tryna help. I know. Thanks.” Atsumu let go of the salt shaker and stood up straight. His gaze flickered over to the stovetop where he had his dinner cooking on low. “G’night, ‘Samu.”

_ “G’night, ‘Tsumu.” _

When the line went silent and his twin hung up on the other end, Atsumu sighed and dropped his phone on the counter. 

* * *

In the white attire, Atsumu didn’t think he’d look so good. He straightened out the lapels of his jacket as he observed himself in the mirror. His hair was taken care of, a little bit of makeup was done. Atsumu had small, white wings and his eyelashes curled out.

Kiyoomi told him when he’d be picking him up from the text message. He had told him how he should act, what he should wear, what he could and couldn’t say. It made him feel like a child getting told what to do before heading into a store.

Please. He was an adult getting ready to head into a wedding. Give him a little bit of credit. 

  
  


Atsumu didn’t have to wait a long time for Kiyoomi to show up. He pulled into the parking lot of the apartment building on time. It was Atsumu who was late. He had been shuffling around in the bathroom, walking back and forth, rethinking his life choices.

Pretending to date someone that you have an actual crush on? That couldn’t be a good idea. 

As Atsumu made his way down the stairs after having gotten a  _ ‘I’m here. Hurry up.’  _ text from Kiyoomi, he chewed the inside of his lip. The taste of blood splattered his taste buds as he clicked his tongue in annoyance. 

_ ‘There’s gotta be a better word than ‘crush’. ‘M not a middle schooler.’ _

Though when Atsumu headed out of the doors and leaned over to peer into the window of the small, black car, Atsumu felt like a middle schooler. The way that his stomach fluttered like butterflies, and jumped like a frog, and hopped like a game of hopscotch. He was sure the back of his neck was red because it sure was heated, and he was afraid the pigment fell on his cheeks as well. 

He cleared his throat and opened the door, sitting himself down in the passenger seat without another word. Atsumu’s silence was weird to Kiyoomi, but apparently, it wasn’t weird enough for him to say something. Instead, he put the car into drive and drove off. 

  
  


When Atsumu got out of the car, he fiddled around with his sleeve. The twin stared down at the cloth, wondering if what he had gotten was good enough. It was just a wedding, and it wasn’t even as if he had someone to impress. He definitely didn’t have to impress Kiyoomi’s family. They weren’t actually dating, as much as Atsumu deep down wanted to.

“What are you doing?” 

Atsumu snapped his head up. “Huh?”

“I asked what you were doing.”

“Lookin’ at my sleeve,” Atsumu muttered. “That a crime?”

“No.” Kiyoomi sighed. “Let’s just get this over will.”

  
  


The pair walked into the building, and Atsumu wasn’t sure how to act. He wasn’t used to staying quiet and following someone's side before like a small puppy, but he couldn’t help it. There was something about Kiyoomi’s family that intimidated Atsumu, surprisingly, more than Kiyoomi himself intimidated him. Suddenly, Kiyoomi didn’t seem bad  _ at all _ — not that Atsumu ever had a specific problem with him when it came to getting along with him.

People had walked up to Kiyoomi to talk to him, but it was only a select few. They didn’t even pay notice to Atsumu or say anything.  _ Most  _ of them didn’t anyway.

“Hey, Atsumu!” A man with a laughter filling the small bubble that Kiyoomi and Atsumu shared in a corner of the wedding walked over. He slapped a hand on the twin’s back. It was a familiar slap, the strength and the laugh. When the twin turned to look at him, he smiled at the face he had seen before. 

“Komori!” Atsumu said with a laugh. It was the first time he had really spoken up aside from a few  _ ‘Hello’s’ _ to some of Kiyoomi’s other cousins that had dared to come over. “Long time no see!” 

Motoya wrapped an arm around him and laughed. “So, you were Kiyoomi’s pick of a date?” He asked with a laugh. “Who would’ve thought?”

“I wouldn’t have,” another voice dully muttered as they stepped over. 

“Sunarin,” Atsumu said as he wriggled his eyebrows. Suddenly, the wedding didn’t seem all that bad. He knew Rintarou was here, obviously. It was his wedding. He just didn’t think he would have a chance to talk with the former team member. “How goes it?”

“Weddin’,” he responded as he lifted his hand. The ring flashed in the bright lights. “Yer datin’ Sakusa?” Rintarou asked. “Feel like ya would’ve announced somethin’ like that in the group chat.”

Ah, yes. The old Inarzaki group chat that was still active from the old team conversing about their personal lives. Atsumu was a pretty active member in that chat, always screaming about things that had happened. Any minor inconvenience was brought up like how he had stubbed his toe and it hurt  _ just a little bit _ . 

Atsumu stuttered a bit. He looked to Kiyoomi for help but just received a blank stare. With a nervous laugh, he looked over at Rintarou. “Just didn’t come up. Also, didn’t wanna take away the spotlight from ya.”

Rintarou squinted at him but nodded. “Whateva,” Rintarou muttered eventually. “Gonna go talk to other people who ain’t an eyesore.”

“Hey!” Atsumu whined. He frowned as he watched Rintarou grab hold of Motoya’s arm and drag him into the other direction. “Bit rude, ain’t he?” Atsumu muttered to Kiyoomi. “Didn’t do nothin’ to him tonight. He’s just bein’ rude.”

“Can you stop pouting?”

“Why?” Atsumu asked with a smirk. “Ya don’t think ‘m cute when I pout?” Kiyoomi glared. There wasn’t a single look in his eyes — still, there was nothing that Atsumu could read. 

It was like Kiyoomi was purposely not letting him in.

“Geez, Omi, tell me what ya really think,” he muttered instead. He bit back what he wanted to ask. 

“Shut up.”

  
  


The two were able to sell that they were together for the wedding. They were able to sell it just enough that a drunk Motoya hanging on Atsumu was bugging them to kiss.

“Come on,” Motoya slurred. “I’ve kissed Rin in front of everyone. What are you afraid of?” 

Atsumu felt the back of his neck heating up. The thought of feeling Kiyoomi’s lips against his made his tongue numb. How would it feel to have Kiyoomi’s fingers run through his hair? What about Kiyoomi’s body pressed against his? How warm would Kiyoomi feel? Atsumu loved being warm. Or would Kiyoomi feel cold? The waiting feeling drained Atsumu. He wanted to know. For the past years, he had been dreading of figuring it out. 

“I uh,” Atsumu let out a nervous chuckle. Kiyoomi sat in a chair next to him at the round table. He was silent, mostly staring down into a glass of liquor he had. It didn’t seem as if he was paying attention to his drunk cousin begging him and Atsumu to kiss as if they were in elementary school on a playground. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” Motoya leaned closer. “Rin, help me out here.” Rintarou didn’t respond. Instead, he downed his drink and let his forehead hit the table. Seconds later, it sprung up. He blinked at Atsumu a few times, still continuing the silence. 

“‘Cause,” Atsumu began, “just don’t think Omi would like it much if I kissed ‘im without brushin’ my teeth after drinkin’ a bunch of alcohol.”

“You’ve barely drank.”

Atsumu shrugged. “Even a little bit would bother ‘im.” He took a glance over at Kiyoomi. “I’d know,” he whispered. 

But he wouldn’t have. Not really. He could figure enough that Kiyoomi wouldn’t like it. Atsumu would just rather have learned it from experience, even if it meant Kiyoomi shuddering away if Atsumu went in for a kiss with liquor-coated lips.

* * *

The wedding made Atsumu think about kissing Kiyoomi. It even crossed his mind during practice. 

It crossed his mind during practice  _ a week _ after the wedding. 

Each time that Kiyoomi spiked the ball down, a shiver ran down Atsumu’s spine. Instead of a high five, Atsumu wanted to kiss him. He wanted his arms wrapped around him; he wanted his fingers in his hair; he wanted to be able to pick up one of Kiyoomi’s sweaters from the ground, breathe in, and take in Kiyoomi’s scent before slipping it on.

  
  


“Hey, Tsum!” A slap on his back was a knock back into reality. “What are you dozing off for?” Koutarou put the back of his hand to Atsumu’s forehead. “Are you alright? Do you need to go to the doctor?”

“What?” Atsumu blinked a few times. “I’m fine! Sorry,” he said with a laugh. “Let’s keep playin’, yah?”

* * *

The older twin let his head hit the counter. He let out a groan, knowing that from the sound and the pain that there would be a red mark on his forehead.

“It’s been — how long?”

“Shuddup,” Atsumu muttered as he lifted his head just in time to watch his twin slide over a plate of freshly made onigiri to him. “It’s been a week since the weddin’, which why weren’t ya there? It was Rin’s weddin’.”

“Travelin’. I told ya,” Osamu replied. “Nothin’ happened at the weddin’?”

“No.”

“Nothin’ happened after?” 

Atsumu stayed quiet for a response now as he lifted up the food to his lips. He took a small bite as the steam lifted from it and slowly shook his head.

“Then, sorry to say, ‘Tsumu, but he really must’ve just been—”

“Usin’ me?” 

Osamu took a deep breath. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Atsumu said with a shrug. “Dunno what I expected from him, honestly.” With a sad sigh, he leaned on the table. He poked at the food depressingly in a way that Osamu had never seen him before. It made him sad seeing his twin like this. 

“What’re ya gonna do?” Osamu asked instead. 

“Get over ‘im,” Atsumu replied. “What else can I do?” He eyed the food. For the first time, he wasn’t hungry, regardless if it was Osamu’s cooking or not. Just a second ago, it was hot, but now, it seemed cold. Atsumu didn’t like cold. “Been wantin’ somethin’ with him fer too long. Think it’s ‘bout time to give up.”

“I wouldn’t say yer givin’ up, Atsumu,” Osamu said.

“What would ya call it then?” He asked, glancing up at his twin. The other leaned on the counter, watching Atsumu. He could tell his twin was reading his movements. Of course, he was. Osamu could read Atsumu like a book. It was obvious he was taking in his brother’s mood to fit what he would say next.

The chef shrugged. “Just not meant to be,” he said.

“Right,” Atsumu muttered. “ _ ‘Not meant to be’ _ .”

* * *

Atsumu didn’t know just how difficult getting over someone would be. He had never had to do it before. Other than volleyball, Atsumu had never really taken interest in anyone or anything. The only reason why Kiyoomi was different was that he had always been there. Kiyoomi was constantly in the spotlight in Atsumu’s view. Being one of the top spikers when they were second years? That wasn’t something that would just turn Atsumu in the other direction. 

He had kept an eye on him as future competition and as a future team member.

Kiyoomi had become just that.

That was all he had to be though.

  
  


Atsumu leaned on his knees in his living room. He swirled around the ice and liquor in the small glass cup. The cling in the glass made him feel lonely. It was the only other noise in the room aside from his soft breathing. He didn’t even have the TV on. The setter sat in silence as he thought about his teammate.

He didn’t understand why he was so hung up on him. The two never had a real romantic connection, they just got along well. It was ridiculous to think of something between them. The two were teammates. They were  _ supposed _ to get along well. Atsumu was his setter. They  _ had _ to get along well.

His elbow lifted to rest on his knee, and in his fingers, he circled the glass he held up in the air. As his fingers danced on the bottom of the glass, he watched his reflection as the design distorted his face each turn. 

He was distorted. 

Atsumu felt sick.

If he didn’t care so much for his apartment, he would’ve let the glass drop from his hand and shatter on the ground. He’d let the drink soak into the floors and ruin them. Warp the wood; stain the floor from dark brown to light; leave a small, sunken hole in front of the couch his toes would dip into every time he sat down to remind him of a small breakdown he had in his living room Sakusa Kiyoomi.

Though he didn’t. He stood up with the glass in his hand and carried it to the counter before heading off to his bedroom.

* * *

Atsumu let out a laugh as his teammates hung on him. Koutarou on one side, a beer bottle in his hand. Thank god it wasn’t hard liquor. The outside hitter was already wasted, and Atsumu was sure that if he had a different glass, he’d be spilling it all over the place. He was thankful he switched to a more confined container to drink from.

Shouyou was on his other side, leaning on him with a sly grin and red cheeks. He was drunk as well, just not as drunk as Koutarou.

If Atsumu was going to admit it, he had had a few to drink too.

“So,” Shouyou began to say. He always had a look on his face that made Atsumu want to talk to him for hours on end. His bright orange, fluffy hair, that adorable smile he remembered from Atsumu’s second year at Nationals, his laugh that burst from his chest when he found something funny. “Bo and I heard something a little bit ago.”

“Yah?” Atsumu asked with a chuckle. He lifted his glass to his lips and took a small sip. The twin was only slightly tipsy but it was enough for him to know that he should start to slow down before it was too late. “Like what?”

“Like how you and Sakusa are dating,” Koutarou blurted.

“What?” Atsumu’s fingers gripped on the glass. It had been two weeks since Osamu and him agreed that he’d push Kiyoomi as a romantic interest out of his mind. “Where’d ya hear that?”

“Motoya!” Koutarou said. “We were hanging out at Osamu’s getting onigiri and they were there.”

_ ‘And ‘Samu didn’t say nothin’?’ _

“Oh,” Atsumu said with a nervous laugh. He didn’t feel that heat in the back of his neck anymore. It was more nervousness than anything else. He had a feeling Kiyoomi would look his way and ask him to keep playing this card, or he’d look at him and pass Atsumu a look that would drag him back. The dark haired one only sat on the other side of the table, silent and in his drink. Atsumu was kind of surprised he hadn’t left yet. “Nah, that was somethin’ I was doin’ for Omi,” he admitted. 

“Wow,” Shouyou said with a laugh. “You guys were faking it?” 

Atsumu nodded.

“Huh!” Koutarou chuckled. He passed Shouyou a look but moved it back to his glass when the middle blocker turned his head away. “Hey, Tsum!” He shoved his glass toward Atsumu. “You and Sho should get more drinks.”

“Why me?”

“Because Sakusa and I did it last time!”

Atsumu sighed, and he stood up from his seat. He tapped Shouyou’s shoulder with his fingertips and picked up Koutarou’s glass with his. “Come on then, Shoyou.”

  
  


Shouyou and Atsumu headed to the counter of the ball. The setter spoke up to the bartender and asked for another round. He gave the two a nod and told them it’d be a minute to prepare. 

They sat at the bar, Atsumu had ordered a beer to sip on while sitting there waiting. Shouyou sat next to him. He had his eyes glued on the side of Atsumu’s face. The twin grew curious, and he looked over. He lifted the glass a little toward Shouyou.

“Why ya lookin’?” He asked. “Want some?”

Shouyou stayed silent. It was clear he was still drunk, but he wasn’t nearly as intoxicated as Koutarou was. He could move around better than Koutarou could; he could speak clearer than Koutarou was with his slightly slurred speech; he could  _ probably — maybe  _ spot the difference between Kiyoomi and Issei.

On the edge of his chair, Shouyou moved closer. He placed his hand on Atsumu’s thigh, and it made the setter flinch. His eyes bounced between the other’s tanned hand on his leg and the brown eyes moving slowly as they looked into Atsumu’s eyes and trailed down.

“Shouyou,” Atsumu whispered under his breath. The middle blocker was close. Atsumu could see the tan line of a tank top, and it made him wonder just how the other looked while wearing one. A sleeveless shirt that exposed his biceps, clothing sticking to his body from sweat, restricted at his chest that made it hard even for Atsumu to breathe.

“Confirming: you’re  _ not _ dating Sakusa?” Shouyou asked.

Atsumu bit his tongue. “Nope.”

“Good.”

Shouyou’s lips met with Atsumu’s. The twin realized he had never kissed anyone before this. Being too focused on volleyball never gave Atsumu a chance to have a relationship. He had never even thought about it, not until he became a pro and Sakusa Kiyoomi joined the team with him. Any other relationship never crossed Atsumu’s mind, but a relationship with another pro? That didn’t seem too hard, and of course, Atsumu’s first thought was Kiyoomi.

But now he was kissing Shouyou.

The sticky kiss tasted like bad liquor. Hard liquor, which wasn’t Atsumu’s favorite, but in a stressful mood, he could knock down a few. 

A short kiss, one that left them close to each other and tangled together their hot breaths in the air. Atsumu licked, hugging his tongue close to his lips in an effort to not touch Shouyou’s. The closeness of them made it kind of impossible, and Atsumu felt his tongue bump against Shouyou’s mouth. 

The aftertaste of his lips wasn’t bad. It wasn’t how the aftertaste normally was. There was something different about this, tasting the alcohol that reminded Atsumu of sick nights when he was forced to drink cold medicine. 

Though, those nights were always forgotten. The sickness always weighed over him, and the only thing he could feel the next morning would be a pounding head and tired limbs; he could only remember the taste of the medicine and bad breath. 

Shouyou pulled away, a grin at his lips. This time, he grabbed the beer from Atsumu and took a swig of it before handing it back to him. 

“Real good,” Atsumu muttered. 

Shouyou couldn’t get another word out before the bartender returned. He slid them over a tray with a load of drinks on it and smiled before heading off to help another person. 

As they made their way back, Atsumu found himself keeping his eyes on Shouyou. 

* * *

Practices after that seemed easier. A week later and Atsumu found himself favoriting the middle blocker. It confused the setter to how he didn’t put that much attention to Shouyou before. He shined like the sun. His bright hair, white teeth, incredible build. 

Atsumu was done being surrounded in the cloaking, ominous smoke cloud that was Sakusa Kiyoomi. He didn’t deserve it. Being dragged through the mud without being able to read Kiyoomi’s thoughts, getting mixed signals about what he really meant, changing himself to fit Kiyoomi — that would probably be one of the hardest parts. 

Kiyoomi was difficult; Shouyou was simple.

He shone through the dark clouds. Atsumu could see. Something beat in his chest whenever he’d see Shouyou’s smile. Maybe it had always been like that.

Atsumu could remember back to Nationals when he had first seen that crazy quick set from Kageyama Tobio. They slammed the ball faster than Inarizaki could see, and they were impressed. The twins even decided to pull the quick set without any practice beforehand at the time. 

He gave Shouyou a promise. The promise to set to him one day.

Shouyou had gotten just that. 

  
  


“Nice set, Atsumu!” Shouyou yelled out after a spike. He laughed as he watched the ball slam down in the corner of the volleyball lines on the gym floor. The power of his spikes were something else. He jumped on Atsumu, an arm wrapped on his shoulder as he slapped the twin on the chest. 

“Nice kill,” Atsumu said back. There was a warriness in his voice. Not because he was shaky about Shouyou touching him. The two had always been close, and even if Atsumu had been developing some feelings toward Shouyou, it wouldn’t affect his gameplay. 

It was the feeling of someone’s eyes on him, though Atsumu never got the chance to glance around the gym floor and see  _ who _ it was.

“Let’s end it on that!” Shuugo called out. The clap of his hands echoed through the gym. “A good play to end on will leave a good mood for tomorrow’s game.” The team agreed and headed off to the locker room.

  
  


“Hey, Atsumu!” Shouyou caught you with the setter. The twin stood by his locker, a towel resting on his shoulder, a bottle of water in his hand. He raised an eyebrow in question before tilting back the bottle. “Let’s go out.”

“Huh?” Atsumu almost choked on his water. He slapped his chest as he coughed. “Go out?”

Shouyou nodded, a smile on his face. “Yeah, come on. We can get a few drinks.”

“We can’t drink before games.” Shouyou took a step closer. He poked Atsumu in the arm with his finger and let it drag down.

“Then I guess it’ll have to be our little secret.”

  
  


They didn’t have many drinks each. The two were smarter than that. With a game tomorrow, a hangover would be worse for them than it would be anyone else. They laughed and talked the whole time. It wasn’t as if they didn’t know each other. They knew each other well enough to get by and blurt in during interviews. 

Something about this was different though. Sitting across from Shouyou, having his attention only on him, focusing on the light freckles that were faint on his cheeks, keeping contact with the dark brown eyes. 

  
  


“Hinata—Shouyou.” Atsumu corrected.

“Miya Atsumu,” Shouyou replied with a light smirk. Atsumu was drawn to it. Like the desire of wanting to look into the sun even though you know just how bad it would hurt. That’s what Hinata Shouyou was like to Miya Atsumu.

Atsumu chuckled. “Let’s get outta here.”

* * *

_  
“Hinata? Yer serious? Yer datin’ Hinata?” _

“Yah. I’m datin’ Shouyou,” Atsumu confirmed. “What’s wrong with that?” 

_ “I just didn’t expect that,” _ Osamu replied. 

“Expect what?” 

_ “It’s been how long since you’ve been tryin’ to get over Sakusa?” _

“Four weeks. Give or take.” Atsumu sighed. He let himself fall back on the couch, his head leaning back to rest on the back of it. “I used to be favorin’ to him — I see that now.”

_ “Yah, we’ve noticed. We just didn’t say anythin’.” _

“Shuddup,” Atsumu quickly snapped. “I just didn’t see Shouyou before. Now I do, and I ain’t regrettin’ anythin’.”

_ “So yer happy?” _ Osamu asked.

Atsumu sighed deeply. His head still tilted back and stared up at the blank ceiling. When he closed his eyes, he could only see black. Blinded like the smoke that clouded Atsumu’s vision when he had been hung up on Kiyoomi. Though with open eyes, Atsumu saw light. He saw Shouyou.

“Yah, I’m happy.”

* * *

Having small parties at Onigiri Miya after games wasn’t something that was strange for the Black Jackals. It was an easy place to hang out. Osamu could close the shop for the night and make food for the whole team. They invited over the Adlers as well after their game, a few of them had been friends or rivals from high school. It made going against them in the professional league a lot more entertaining for both sides.

Koutarou talked with Wakatoshi who had been talking with Kiyoomi. Kourai chatted with Shouyou for a bit with Tobio and Atsumu. They leaned on the counter, monching on some quick snacks Osamu had brought over for the meantime while he got the big meal ready. Adriah and Shion were talking with Sokolov Tatsuto from the Alders. 

Around an hour of talking, the Hirugami’s showed up. Fukurou and Sachirou showed up with more liquor and smiles as they walked through the door with a greeting. That’s when Kourai and Tobio slipped away from Atsumu and Shouyou.

Shouyou and Atsumu chatted alone. Finally. Atsumu was able to talk with him alone. 

With a bottle in one hand, Shouyou reached forward and fixed the collar of Atsumu’s shirt. He danced his fingers in the cloth, sliding his hand down Atsumu’s arm to grab ahold of it. Atsumu liked the feeling of his hands in his. Shouyou’s hands were warm — quite like the sun. Like the sun that lit his path, like the sun that opened his eyes. His hand fit nicely in his, snugly resting their palms together.

Shouyou reached forward again, putting his lips to Atsumu’s. Soft. So soft. Every time he kissed him, he felt a skipped beat in his chest that shook an unlocked cage.

A cage he no longer felt confined to. 

A shattering glass rang through the air. Shouyou backed from Atsumu to turn his head, and he leaned his back into him. Instinctively, an instinct that Atsumu grew to like, Atsumu rested a hand on his shoulder as he looked to the noise as well. 

It hadn’t been an expensive glass that dropped. The broken beer bottle was left shattered on the ground, the liquor all over the floor. Kiyoomi stood over it, staring down at the mess he made.

A mess that Kiyoomi made. It seemed strange — it  _ was _ strange.

“I’m going to get going,” Kiyoomi spoke lowly.

“Aw,” Shouyou called out. “Already, Sakusa?” He asked. “Osamu hasn’t even finished with the food. You’re going to miss out.” Despite the points Shouyou made, Kiyoomi was already reaching for his jacket. He slipped it on and stepped over the glass to the door.

“I’ll survive.”

  
  


Shouyou looked over his shoulder to Atsumu. “What was that about?” He mumbled. 

“Not sure,” he replied. Atsumu gave him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, babe.” He kissed his temple. “I’ll have a talk with him later.” Shouyou nodded.

“Alright.”

* * *

Atsumu knocked on the door to the apartment. It had been a little out of his way after dropping Shouyou off at home, but he promised Shouyou he’d go. He had been thinking it was too late. It was ten o’clock at night and the other probably took a shower and headed to bed.

Though that wasn’t the case when the door opened, and Atsumu was met with a head of curly, dark hair and an unimpressed look on the other’s face.

“Hey,” Atsumu breathed out. “Can I come in?”

“For what?” Kiyoomi asked. 

“I want to talk. That a crime?”

Kiyoomi took a deep breath. With a sigh, he stepped aside and opened the door. “Come in.” Atsumu walked in, hands in his pockets. He ducked his head down as he walked past the other, chewing his lip. There was a slight nervous feeling that Kiyoomi felt. 

He heard the door shut behind him, and Atsumu’s stomach dropped. Maybe this had been a bad idea.

“What do you want?” Kiyoomi asked. Atsumu turned to look at him. His eyes looked tired, but they read something else as well. 

  
Though, of course, Atsumu couldn't read him, and that just made him angry.

“Wanted to know what happened earlier. Ya dropped yer beer and walked out. Didn’t even clean up.” Atsumu scoffed. “You, Sakusa Kiyoomi, did not clean up after yerself.”

“You say that like you know me.”

“Do I not?” Atsumu turned his head.

“You know Hinata.”

_ ‘What?’ _

“What?” Atsumu asked out loud.

“What changed?” Kiyoomi asked suddenly.

“What?” Atsumu took a step back from the other. “What’re ya talkin’ ‘bout?”

“When did it all change?” Kiyoomi had taken another step forward. It was different.  _ Changed _ . It really was changed. Kiyoomi was now pushing into Atsumu’s personal bubble. 

And Atsumu realized what the hell he was talking about. 

_ “When did Atsumu’s feelings change?”  _ was Kiyoomi’s question.

“When ya didn’t love me back,” Atsumu answered quietly.

“I did.”

“What?” Atsumu scoffed. “Yer—“ he stuttered for words to say. He gripped onto the jacket, hands balled up in fists in his pockets. “What?”

“There  _ was  _ something,” Kiyoomi admitted. “Why do you think I asked you out of all people to come to Motoya’s wedding with me?”

“I thought ya just needed someone,” Atsumu muttered. “Ya couldn’t possibly assume I would’ve just taken that as an invitation to some sort of relationship.”

“Did you not?”

“I had,” Atsumu whispered, “at the time.” He shook his head. “But I moved on to take it a different way.” He took a deep breath and crossed his arms, hugging himself. With Kiyoomi, he felt cold. He didn’t like that. Atsumu wanted to be back with Shouyou.

Atsumu realized he  _ hated _ the cold.

“Guess I was right the first time,” the twin added in a mumble.

“You were.” Kiyoomi took another step closer, and Atsumu took another step back. The back of his heel hit the wall of the small hallway. If he wasn’t so focused on Kiyoomi, he might have complained. 

“Ya couldn’t have expected me to guess that.” Atsumu rolled his eyes. “Yer unbelievable, ya know that? Impossible. A brick fuckin’ wall.” Atsumu headed toward the door. “I’m outta here.”

Kiyoomi grabbed his wrist and pulled him to a stop. The twin turned and glared. His eyes bore into the other’s soul. It hurt. It hurt a lot worse than Kiyoomi had thought it would. He didn’t expect this from Atsumu, but what had he expected? 

Closure. That’s what he wanted. He just didn’t want it to feel like this. 

“Atsumu, I tried.”

“Not fuckin’ hard enough.” Atsumu took a deep breath as he pushed a laugh through. He snapped his hand back from Kiyoomi’s grip. Even out of his hold, Atsumu still felt the cold tingle on his wrist. “Yer too fuckin’ late fer that. Ya knew. Through all that time, ya knew how I felt ‘bout ya.” He shook his head. “Why the fuck didn’t ya  _ do _ somethin’? Why wait until I’m already with someone else?”

“I didn’t realize I was losing you.”

“Well, ya did.”

It came out harsher than Atsumu had expected. He was surprised at himself. His eyebrows lifted in shock, his lips slightly parted. He closed his mouth, biting his lip slightly as he cursed quietly under his breath. The corner of his eyes stung. He still felt undeniably cold. So cold he thought the tears would turn to small ice crystals.

Kiyoomi’s chest had lifted with a shake, but he remained quiet. Atsumu wasn’t sure if he was trying to figure out something to say, but he didn’t wait.

He turned on his heel and left. 

Atsumu waited years for Kiyoomi. Suddenly, when he was done waiting and moved on, Kiyoomi was ready? It wasn’t fair. His feelings were swirled. 

  
Not in the same way that his stomach had when Kiyoomi asked him to be a plus one at the wedding five weeks ago. 

It felt wrong. Atsumu felt guilty. 

But he moved on, and Kiyoomi would have to as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter @mattsuhana


End file.
